


Parisian Nights

by richardisgreatbutyknow



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pianist!Emmanuel, Piano Bar AU, Student!Emmanuel, Student!Justin, Translation, for being a bro, thanks obama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 10:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11206641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richardisgreatbutyknow/pseuds/richardisgreatbutyknow
Summary: Justin, an exchange student in Paris, goes to a piano bar with his friends and falls in love with the pianist.





	Parisian Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Les soirées parisiennes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013858) by [Apictureinmymind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apictureinmymind/pseuds/Apictureinmymind). 



> An enormous thank you to [Apictureinmymind](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Apictureinmymind/pseuds/Apictureinmymind), who had the patience to bear with me and was kind enough to beta this translation and correct my stupid mistakes. She’s a saint. (THIRTEENTH GLASS).  
> The title comes from [_Les soirées parisiennes_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxs__LjkAZs) by Louise Attaque. It’s a good song, give it a try.

Only a few weeks ago, Justin arrived in France – in Paris, more specifically. He decided to go on exchange in order to complete his PhD second year in a country he’d always dreamt of visiting.

 Tonight, he’s meeting with other students from his exchange program in a bar of the capital. Apparently, it’s a piano bar, and it was recommended to him by a Parisian student. Justin has never set foot in a piano bar, but as he thinks to himself, there’s a first time for everything. Really, he knows they’re not going there to enjoy the music, but to chat in a pleasant atmosphere while sipping some cocktails. Still, it’s a plan that suits him fine as he rarely has any objections.

 As he enters the bar, he sees some of his new friends already sitting at a table in the back of the room. He joins them without paying attention to the melody struggling to reach him through the noise of discussions and the rattling of silverware.

 Soon, his attention is entirely focused on what is happening at his table, and Justin enthusiastically takes part in the ongoing conversation. He almost forgets he’s in a piano bar. However, he ends up noticing the presence of a pianist in the middle of the room as Barack, an American student, goes to the piano and leaves some money and a music title written on a napkin in a tip jar. This is how things work in a piano bar, apparently. Or maybe it’s how they do in this one. Truth be told, Justin couldn’t care less.

 What matters in this moment is the pianist, this pianist he took so long to notice. Now Justin can’t take his eyes off him. After the pianist plays the last notes of a piece he doesn’t recognise (probably because he doesn’t even attempt to recognise it), the musician retrieves the napkin Barack dropped in his jar and unfolds it. A few seconds later, his hands hover over the keys of the piano, and he starts playing again. Justin doesn’t know this piece either, yet he still doesn’t care. That’s not what he’s really interested in.

 He’s mesmerised by the pianist and he regrets his friends chose a table at the back of the room. He’d love to see him from up close – the person who fascinates him even though he doesn’t know why. Admittedly, the pianist is rather attractive, but Justin doesn’t react the same way with every attractive person who crosses him. Luckily for him.

 “Are you alright, Justin?” a friend asks him.

 “Oh – yes, I’m okay, thanks,” Justin answers, looking away at last from the small stage, and most particularly from the man who’s occupying it.

 Needless to say, his sudden, unusual quietness has drawn his friends’ attention. He does his best to focus on the conversation again, but he can’t help sneaking furtive glances at the pianist every two minutes.

 A few hours later, when his friends decide to go home, Justin follows them even though he wishes he could stay until closing time. He’s been acting funny all night, there’s certainly no need to overdo it at the risk of drawing everyone else’s attention.

 After that night, Justin comes back with some other students every other weekend night. But soon he starts feeling these occasional visits are not enough, so he takes the leap; he goes alone to the piano bar, with no other aim but to contemplate the pianist. It’s not a matter of music. After all, Justin doesn’t care about the piano. He’d come and watch the pianist even if he was merely sitting without doing anything at all, and this realisation makes Justin nervous. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he feels he should stop. Yet he doesn’t.

 By coming back again and again, Justin now knows several things about the pianist – he seems very young, has a gap between his teeth, smiles often, but he also looks sad, almost lifeless. Justin wants to run his hands through the pianist’s messy hair to know if his hair is as soft as it looks – though this is something that concerns him more than the pianist. And lastly, Justin noticed that towards the end of the night, when the bar is about to close and the musician stops getting music requests, he starts playing whatever he wants and it’s then that he looks alive.

 Hence Justin writes the music titles of the pieces he recognises on a piece of rough paper found in his messenger bag: Schumann, Liszt, Chopin. He feels a bit ashamed, as if he’s a spy or a stalker, but he pursues his idea anyway. That weekend, when he goes to the bar with some friends from university, he slips a tip and a napkin on which a title of one of the said pieces is written in the jar. His cheeks are on fire; he’s probably bright red from embarrassment. Nevertheless, as the pianist unfolds Justin’s napkin and a smile lights his face up, Justin doesn’t regret his stupid little game in the least. He swears to himself he’ll repeat the experience when the pianist raises his head and looks in Justin’s direction, offering Justin his brightest smile. And Justin keeps his promise every time he goes to the piano bar and the pianist offers him the same smile, a smile that never fails to make Justin’s heart beat a little faster. Soon, Justin receives that smile by simply leaving a napkin in the pianist’s jar, and then simply by entering the bar – clearly, the pianist picked up on his little game.

 One night at the bar, as Justin comes out of the bathroom, he bumps into someone he didn’t notice at all. That person falls to the ground and Justin feels terrible. It’s his fault, he hastily walked out without checking behind the door, in a hurry to get back to his table. He feels even more terrible when he discovers the identity of the person he knocked down.

 “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he apologises, extending his hand to help the pianist get back on his feet.

 “It’s nothing – I understand. I’m too small for you to notice me,” the pianist jokes, taking Justin’s hand. Justin immediately realises the pianist has a slight lisp. He finds it unexpectedly charming.

 He apologises again and blushes, hoping that the dim lights in the room prevent the pianist from noticing it.

 “Really, I can assure you it’s nothing – in fact, I’d like to thank you for all your music requests. I’m basically draining your entire bank account. I feel bad. You can just drop your request, you know. There’s no need to tip me.”

 “I’ll think about it,” Justin says, even though he already knows he’ll keep leaving some money in the jar. Then, as he remembers to show good manners, he introduces himself and holds his hand out to the pianist again, this time to shake his.

 “Emmanuel, nice to meet you,” the pianist says while they’re shaking hands.

 Their meeting turns out to be less catastrophic than Justin first imagined. He’s made more progress with the pianist in five minutes than he has in two months.

 “I have to go, or my boss will kill me. See you next time,” Emmanuel tells him, winking before he disappears, leaving Justin speechless.

 As Justin goes back to his seat, he’s congratulated by one of his friends. “Finally, you’ve talked to him! Well done, you’ve made some progress.”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, trying to keep a straight face. Unfortunately, he can’t help but smile.

 “You’re saying that while you’re grinning like a lunatic. You have no credibility, Justin, absolutely none.”

 Justin could contradict him, but it wouldn’t do any good. His friends understood he has a crush on the pianist a long time ago. In fact, the entire bar likely knows it. He can’t say he’s tried to keep a low profile, after all.

 After their fortuitous meeting in front of the men’s bathroom door, Emmanuel often comes to see Justin on his breaks when they’re alone in the bar.

 One night, after Emmanuel’s shift, as both of them are leaning on the counter and drinking their third glass at least, Justin asks him,

 “I know I’ve never asked you this question, but – how old are you?”

 “I’m eighteen, what about you?”

 Justin is silent for a moment, a little shocked. Of course he noticed Emmanuel was young, but he had no idea he was that young.

 “Uh… twenty-four,” Justin says, dumbfounded to the point of forgetting his own age as chaos unfolds in his mind.

 He’s been attracted to an eighteen-year-old for months, and he doesn’t know what the implications are for him. He tries to reflect on this, but being under the influence of alcohol doesn’t help the process.

 Emmanuel asks him what he does for a living. Justin replies evasively, slightly lost, and then Emmanuel starts explaining to him why he works in a piano bar. He was a student but he’s been playing piano to make a living ever since his parents severed all ties with him as a consequence of his affair with his history teacher.

 “Was it because of the age gap, or the fact that he was my teacher, or because he was a man? I never found out – the reason was probably a mix of all three,” he bitterly concludes. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this – maybe I just can’t hold my liquor,” he admits with a self-deprecating chuckle.

 Justin doesn’t know what to say. Comforting people feels awkward to him, and this is no different despite his feelings for Emmanuel. The said feelings make him feel even more awkward, even more so because he’s just learnt that Emmanuel is six years younger than he is.

 So he orders another round and places his hand on Emmanuel’s back, in a gesture he hopes encourages him. There’s nothing else he can think of.

 He’s surprised the waitress hasn’t kicked him out yet even though it’s way past closing time, half an hour at least. Probably, she lets it slide because he’s with Emmanuel. It doesn’t matter, anyway.

 Justin realises he’s drunk too much when he runs his hand through Emmanuel’s hair while Emmanuel is resting his head on the counter. He’s been dreaming of doing this ever since he saw him for the first time, but he’d never dare to do such a thing if he was sober – especially after what Emmanuel confessed to him tonight. Now is not the time for this, but Justin’s foggy brain can’t process this information. He thinks to himself Emmanuel’s hair is indeed as soft as it looks, when Emmanuel grabs his wrist.

 Abruptly, Justin pulls his hand away as if he’s just been burnt, but Emmanuel doesn’t let him go.

 He raises his head from the counter and slowly rises and after a chain of actions Justin has trouble processing, Emmanuel presses his lips to Justin’s.

 At first he kisses back, and he would certainly lose himself in all the overwhelming emotions he feels if a dull thud didn’t make him jump, bringing him back to reality like a cold shower. The waitress has just knocked a chair down while cleaning the room. Suddenly, Justin becomes fully aware of the situation and of the atrocity he’s just committed. He’s just made out with an eighteen-year-old who has drunk too much. True, Emmanuel is the one who took initiative, but Justin indulged him. He should have been more responsible than this, no doubt. He’s older and according to Emmanuel’s history, it’s not the first time Emmanuel’s been attracted to someone older. In contrast, Justin can’t come to terms with having feelings for someone so young. Sure, there are only six years separating them, but Emmanuel is barely legal, barely out of high school, and Justin feels like a predator.

 So he does the opposite of what he should do; he runs away. He offers vague apologies before hurriedly leaving the bar without waiting for Emmanuel to answer, and Emmanuel watches him stammer his way out of his poor excuses with a confused look on his face.

 After that accident, he avoids going to the bar for the next few weeks, and he feels guilty for his cowardice. He should make amends with Emmanuel, but he lacks the courage to do so.

 Some of his friends start asking him why he’s always so gloomy, but he dodges their questions and tries to put an end to their worries by assuring them he’s fine. He doesn’t fool anyone.

 “It’s because of the little pianist, isn’t it?” Barack asks him one day, while they’re doing some research for their respective thesis in the university library.

 Justin considers denying everything for a second, but he already knows he doesn’t stand a chance.

 “Yeah,” he sighs. “How do you know?”

 “I noticed you stopped coming to the bar with us, whereas you used to be the first one to drag us there.”

 Justin says nothing because he has nothing to say, and starts taking notes again even though he can’t focus anymore.

 “Tonight you should go and see him – I don’t know what happened between you two, but it’s about time you sort this out.”

 Justin sighs again. Perhaps it’s time for him to get everything off his chest despite the fact that he’s not fond of the idea.

 “I can’t – we kissed the other day and… he’s better off without ever seeing me again. He’s only eighteen—”

 “So what, he’s legal and consenting, right? I think he’s old enough to decide for himself, he doesn’t need you to choose in his place,” Barack says, not taking his eyes off his notes. He doesn’t look shocked in the least by what Justin has just told him.

 “You’ve got all worked up over nothing, pal,” Barack assures him.

 Justin is not entirely convinced, but he decides Barack is right on one point; he should go and see Emmanuel to apologise to him. Justin acted like a complete jerk by abruptly ditching him right after he kissed Emmanuel when he was drunk.

 That very night, he heads to the bar and sits at a table far away from the stage, and by extension Emmanuel. Justin doesn’t know why he’s hiding even though he’ll talk with Emmanuel in a few hours. Maybe he just needs some time to summon some courage.

 Emmanuel looks in a bad shape tonight. He drinks a glass of water between each song, and he often stands up and takes a break to do God knows what. Justin really wants to know what this is all about, but he’s too far to learn more about Emmanuel’s physical condition.

 As Emmanuel’s shift ends, Justin gets up and walks up to him. It’s now or never.

 Justin reaches him just in time to catch an unsteady Emmanuel on the verge of collapsing.

 “What’s going on?” Justin asks, feeling a growing sense of panic.

 Now that he’s so close to Emmanuel, Justin notices that his eyes are red, and that he’s burning hot, and that his lips are unnaturally pale and dry.

 “I think I caught the flu… what are you doing here?” Emmanuel answers. His attempt at being threatening is lessened to nothing as a result of his weak, hoarse voice.

 “I came to apologise, but clearly, now is not the right moment. Where do you live?” Justin asks. He could ask the waitress to take care of Emmanuel and bring him home, but he feels responsible.

 “Right upstairs – I’m subletting a room in my boss’ apartment,” Emmanuel explains, still leaning on him. He’s clearly worn out.

 A sense of relief rushes through Justin. He doesn’t know what he would have done if Emmanuel had lived on the other side of Paris. Climbing stairs will probably be enough of an adventure as it is.

 And it actually is; climbing the twenty steps that set the piano bar apart from Emmanuel’s room takes them at least five minutes, and Justin feels Emmanuel is a heartbeat away from falling asleep on the way up. But the latter turns out to be surprisingly alert as he starts interrogating Justin halfway through. This conversation is shaping up to be long and painful.

 “Why have you avoided me for three weeks?”

 The disappointment in his voice nearly shatters Justin.

 “I… I felt bad for kissing you. I still do.”

 “I was the one who kissed you,” Emmanuel pertinently points out.

 “Still, I didn’t reject you… You were drunk—”

 “So were you,” Emmanuel replies, playing tit for tat.

 How can he be so quick-witted while he’s in such a state? It’s a mystery.

 “Yeah, but—”

 “But what? But I’m just a kid and I don’t know what I’m doing, that’s what you mean?”

 Justin feels trapped; by putting it like that, that does make his behaviour seem stupid and disrespectful.

 “You know what, Justin? I’m not mad at you for kissing me, but for disappearing for three weeks and treating me like an irresponsible child.”

 For a few long seconds, there’s an awkward silence, then Justin finally says,

 “I’m so sorry, Emmanuel… I truly am. I haven’t been fair to you. I hope you can forgive me.”

 “I’ll see what I can do,” Emmanuel says smiling despite his exhaustion.

 Justin leads him to his room and helps him take his shoes and his suit jacket off. He was going to let Emmanuel deal with his bow tie and his shirt, but Justin quickly realises he’s struggling.

 Anyway, he had planned to leave the bar as soon as he finished making amends. Clearly, following his plans becomes a hard task when it comes to Emmanuel.

 Justin unknots Emmanuel’s bow tie and unbuttons his shirt, trying not to take advantage of the situation by peeping.

 “Do you have any aspirin?”

 “Bathroom, under the sink, the cabinet to the right.”

 Justin stops by the kitchen and grabs a glass of water, then goes looking for the aspirin. Finally, he puts everything on Emmanuel’s nightstand, while Emmanuel is buried under his covers.

 “Rest,” Justin tells him. And as he’s about to leave, he’s held back by Emmanuel, whose hand slips into his.

 “Please, stay.” His request is accompanied by pleading eyes. He’s well aware of the effect he has on Justin. How sly.

 “I shouldn’t—”

 “Stay and you’re forgiven,” Emmanuel adds.

 It’s a low blow, and it works perfectly. Justin sighs, taking off his shoes, which makes Emmanuel grin. He knows he’s won.

 Justin lies down next to Emmanuel, who immediately snuggles up to him. There’s no other choice, really; there’s no way two adults can fit in a single bed, especially when one of them is more than six feet tall.

 Emmanuel’s abnormally high temperature reminds Justin of the flu he’ll probably catch as well, but he couldn’t care less. It’s the least of his worries right now.

 Once Emmanuel falls asleep, Justin gently pulls back and walks out of the apartment, not without first leaving his phone number on a piece of paper next to the bottle of aspirin, along with a few lines that tell Emmanuel to call him if he needs anything.

 He doesn’t want Emmanuel to think he has run away again and that Justin won’t keep in touch in the following weeks. Yes, he still feels a little bad for falling in love at first sight with a (very) young man of eighteen, but perhaps Barack and Emmanuel are right… Maybe he’s overreacting, and it’s not that big of a deal.

 The morning after, Justin gets a text message from Emmanuel.

 “For a second I thought I had hallucinated last night, but apparently, I didn’t. Thanks for staying, but you should have left earlier, now I’m sure you caught the flu as well. I’m sorry, I’m insufferable when I’m sick.”

 As Justin grins like a lunatic, his friends he’s drinking coffee with, start bombarding him with questions. He doesn’t reply, but he texts Emmanuel back.

 “It’s nothing. That was the normal thing to do. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. See you very soon.”

 After having taken his time to type and send his message, Justin asks his friends if they’re okay with going to the piano bar next weekend. Everyone then understands why he’s so cheerful all of a sudden.

 Justin ignores the teasing and keeps sipping his coffee, hoping that Emmanuel will have recovered and got back to work by the end of the week, and that he won’t get sick himself.


End file.
